Atomic Shadows
by StayClose
Summary: What if... an 'evil' female Wanderer travelled to New Vegas and met a 'good' male Courier? C'mon, sing it with me: I take two steps forwards, I take two steps back, we come together 'cuz opposites attract. And you know - it ain't fiction, just a natural fact...
1. Chapter 1

_So... when I should be writing something else I end up editing and posting this, which I wrote a couple of months ago. I think I'm just suffering from review withdrawal._

* * *

**The Wanderer**

The hot sun beat down upon her head as the Wanderer shielded her eyes and squinted across the water. From the stories she had heard, she had expected more hostility from these skirt-wearing men, despite the coin that hung from a chain around her neck. The Mark of Caesar. Other than having to talk her way past one guard who warned against any aggression on her behalf, the rest of the Legionnaires in Cottonwood Cove had left her alone. They seemed content enough to show their disdain through long dark looks and muttered asides.

Dogmeat huffed as a plank raft glided across the river to the pier on which she stood. She pulled at one of his silky ears. 'Steady,' she said quietly.

Sheer stone cliffs in tones of brown and sand lined the river, the azure sky above dotted with passing wisps of white cloud. The further she travelled from the Capital Wasteland, the more colour gradually crept into her world. The small flowering cacti that grew so prolifically here had been a particular delight, until she had touched one of the rotten prickly things.

As the raft drew closer, she was able to make out the features of the tall Legionnaire who stood and studied her with his arms folded as two others used long stakes to push the craft across the water. He was attractive, in a rather stern way. Black hair that shone almost blue in the midday sun had been brushed back from his forehead, and he watched her with dark brown eyes.

With a small bump, the raft connected with the pier, and the two oarsmen held it still.

'Ah way,' said the black-haired man.

The Wanderer repeated the greeting and added a 'true to Caesar' (pronouncing the name as they did - _kai-zar_) for good measure.

'Hm. This day has been most unusual. You understand how great an honor it is to be summoned by Caesar? You are only the second Dissolute to be granted an audience with him. And the first woman.'

'Wow, you are a real charmer. Who are you?' she asked, stepping aboard. Dogmeat sniffed at the raft once before following her, plonking his haunches down casually as if he had been riding the water all his life.

'I am Cursor Lucullus. I am not here for your entertainment, woman.'

'I'm sensing some issues with the fairer sex here, Lou. Can I call you Lou?' She smiled, keeping her knees soft to maintain her balance as they pushed off and headed upriver.

Lucullus frowned. 'Women are physically and intellectually inferior to men. Your role is to bear children and ensure the survival of our species.' He shook his head. 'I simply cannot fathom the reason behind Caesar's insistence on meeting with you.'

'Well, maybe that's why you're the ferryman and he's the one in charge. Now be a good boy and kindly shut up,' she said, allowing a hint of steel to enter her voice.

The Cursor was disciplined. Only the purpling of his neck indicated his rage at her insolence. Caesar had no doubt given his orders to see her unharmed, at least for now. As she settled down next to her dog and wrapped her fingers through his fur, she wondered how long that would last.

x.x.x

It had taken several hours but now Fortification Hill loomed over them as they approached. The oarsmen allowed the raft to hitch up onto the shingle beach and the Wanderer jumped ashore, Dogmeat at her heels.

'See you on the return journey?' she asked Lucullus pleasantly, who rolled his eyes in response. That made her smile. She didn't know yet which way this meeting with the leader of the Legion would go, but she hoped for an opportunity to kill this one at least on the way back.

The entrance to The Fort was heavily guarded. As she walked towards the gateway within the rusted metal wall, a young man stepped forwards and raised his hand. She paused.

'By order of Caesar, all visitors must disarm and relinquish all banned items,' he told her.

'What is considered a banned item here?' she asked.

'Alcohol and all chems, including stims and other addictive items.'

So far, this tribe were not endearing themselves to her one bit. Their views on women, and now this…

'I have to bring my medication along, I have a congenital heart condition.' That her father had been a doctor had many benefits, including being able to dupe uneducated backwards tribals.

The guard shook his head. 'I know not why Caesar would wish to speak with such a physically inferior whelp, but I will allow this one exception.'

The Wanderer had no intention to hand over all her weapons either. She unslung the marksman carbine from her back and the .44 magnum revolver at her hip and passed them to the guard. He took them from her and raised an eyebrow. 'Is that all?'

She raised her arms and smiled seductively. 'You're more than welcome to pat me down, big boy,' she purred.

The young guard blinked twice and swallowed audibly. 'Your belongings will be returned to you when you leave,' he said, dropping his eyes to the floor.

Emaciated slaves carrying massive burdens made their way past her as she walked through the encampment. Their trembling limbs and heavy breath garnered no sympathy from the Wanderer. She was of the opinion that every man, woman and child had a choice when it came to allowing oneself to be made a slave. Even if the only options were submit or die, there was always a choice.

Beyond a row of deep scarlet tents stood a small circular arena. The walls had been constructed out of more sheets of scrap metal and wired together with sections of chain link fence. Dark blood stains covered the ground within. The Legionnaire who stood by the gate of the arena looked at her coldly.

'When is the next fight?' she asked. 'Can anyone sign up?'

He scoffed. 'Know your place, woman. Unlike the Profligates in the NCR, only men fight in the Legion.'

'Ah, I should have guessed. Maybe one day soon, a woman will sweep through this camp and show you all just how dangerous we can be.'

'A woman like you?' His hand moved to touch the hilt of the machete that hung from his belt. 'Were it not for the Mark of Caesar around your neck, I could easily cut you down where you stand.'

There was a low growl as Dogmeat bared his fangs.

'As much as I would dearly love to see you try, I have an appointment to keep with your leader.' She deliberately turned her back to the man and headed to the large tent that stood overlooking the camp. Unless Caesar had something really interesting to say, this entire place would bleed.

Outside the tent, a guard held out his hand and told her that her dog would have to remain with him. Dogmeat whined as she knelt and put her hands on either side of his muzzle.

Intelligent, mismatched eyes met hers. 'Be vigilant,' she told him, and received a warm wet lick on the end her nose. She would never just command him to 'stay'.

The Wanderer stood and pushed the heavy waxed fabric of the door flap aside.

* * *

**The Courier**

'Why? Why did I even fucking try and help you?' The Courier hissed at Benny.

Both men were on their knees, hands bound behind their backs.

'Be silent,' commanded the Legion guard who watched over them, swinging his boot into the Courier's kidney. A wave of nausea rolled through him and he spat on the floor.

A movement from the front of the tent caught his attention, and the Courier watched as a young woman walked casually in front of Caesar. Benny gave a low whistle of appreciation, earning him a kick in the ribs too.

There was no denying that she was beautiful, despite the thin white scar that ran down her right cheek onto her jaw. She wore her dark brown hair pulled back in a practical ponytail, her features were delicate and her close-fitting leather armor hinted at the lean curves underneath.

From the side of the tent where he knelt, the Courier could not hear the conversation between her and Caesar, but she seemed to be amused by what she heard.

Boone. He should have brought the surly son of a bitch with him. But the Courier had wanted to hear out the leader of the Legion first, whereas Boone would have simply set this place on fire. Which would have been the better option now he was sat here, destined to be crucified as the sun set.

He could hear the man now. 'Told you so,' he would deadpan, poking the Courier's corpse with a toe. Damn him.

His thoughts snapped back to the present as the woman shook her head, and laughed. What happened next left him stunned as he watched. Moving faster than he would have thought possible, she pulled a knife from her hip and plunged the blade deep into Caesar's throat. She had taken down two other guards before the rest had even drawn their weapons. She faced them, using a third guard as a human shield while she sprayed bullets from a rifle she had claimed.

The guards that had stood either side of the Courier and Benny now ran forwards. The Courier threw himself at Benny, knocking the guy to the floor.

'Hey, what gives?' Benny asked, before a hail of bullets whined overhead.

The Courier managed to bring his tied arms under his legs so they were now bound in front of him, and he started to worry the knots with his teeth. Benny saw what he was doing and copied.

Hands free, the pair stood carefully. The beautiful but deadly stranger had now killed most of the remaining Legionnaires. The Courier grabbed a machete from one of the dead and hacked through the neck of a bald man who was approaching the woman from behind.

She turned and raised the rifle. Her blue eyes flicked from his face to the PIP-Boy on his left wrist. The Courier had noticed she wore one as well. The device seemed to have saved his life as she winked and turned the barrel of the rifle towards the tent entrance.

A large black and grey dog had wriggled its way under the tent and now stood by her side, red gore dripping from its jaws. It growled at him, baring long teeth. The woman clucked her tongue.

'Stand down, boy,' she told the dog. The beast huffed and nuzzled her hand, not taking its strange eyes from the Courier. One eye was blue, the other brown.

There were loud shouts coming from outside the tent. More would be coming soon.

'Where the fuck do you think you're going?' The Courier shouted at Benny as he slunk towards the rear of the tent.

'Whoa man, you and the doll seem to have everything under control. I was just gonna to stay outta your way, you dig?'

'Get back over here and help, you good-for-nothing, slimy son of a bitch.'

There was a quiet chuckle from the woman at his side.

Benny muttered something unintelligible but he sauntered over to them, picking up a shotgun and a rifle. He stood next to the Courier, handing him the shotgun.

The three readied their weapons as the next wave of soldiers started to pour into the tent.

x.x.x

'So, what's your story, baby?' Benny asked.

The woman tilted her head as she mopped the blood from her dog's muzzle. 'What do you want to know?'

'Benny here will probably call you 'baby' forever, but I wouldn't mind knowing your name,' the Courier said.

'I've been called lots of things. 'Asshole', 'scumbag', 'that little bitch from vault one-oh-one'...' She gave a soft laugh that sent a chill down his spine. 'My personal favourite was 'Pirate of the Wastes'. My real name is Rosie. This is Dogmeat.'

Benny and the Courier exchanged a glance.

'I think I've heard about you. Didn't you blow up a town?' The Courier asked carefully.

Rosie stood and walked over to him. She was a small thing, barely reaching the top of his chest. A smile tugged the corner of her mouth. 'It was an eyesore.'

'Damn. You're scary, doll-face. In a good way, I mean. Please don't kill me,' said Benny.

She didn't even look in Benny's direction. 'What's your name?' she asked, blue eyes searching his face.

'I don't know,' he replied with a shrug. 'Most people call me the Courier.'

Rosie frowned. 'How can you not know your own name?'

'I have this amnesia, caused by a jerkwad who shot me in the head. I don't remember anything before it happened.' His stomach did a small flip as she reached up a blood-stained hand to brush the hair away from his forehead.

'Huh,' she said, touching the small scar under his hairline. She took a step back, and the Courier started to breathe again. 'Your surgeon did an amazing job. Do you know who shot you?'

'Ah...' his eyes flicked to Benny who shook his head violently. 'No, I don't remember.'

'The amnesia, of course. Forgive me.' Rosie looked around and the Courier followed her gaze.

Legion bodies littered the camp, smoke rising from the burned tents and crucifixes. He watched as she moved over to a large metal crate by the main gate and started to pick the lock. Benny followed her, no doubt trying to chat her up.

A group of slaves huddled by the bank of the river, shying away as the Courier approached. He had already told them once to gather up any supplies they might want from the camp, but none had moved.

'Listen, you're safe now. You're no longer slaves, all the Legion here are dead. Please, go and collect anything you might need.'

'Do we belong to you now?' asked a wavery voice.

'Fuck me, no. You're free. Do you understand?' He regretted raising his voice as the group shrank back further.

'There's no point. They're like brahmin, you have to tell them what to do,' said Rosie as she appeared by his side. She now had a carbine rifle across her back and a revolver in the holster at her hip.

'They're still people,' he said quietly.

'You know, even if we manage to ferry all of them back to Cottonwood, they are just going to stand around bleating until someone comes along and either kills them or takes them again as slaves. It would be a kindness to kill them now.'

'I don't believe that. And I can't believe you do too,' he said. 'Where's Benny?'

'He's still rummaging through that lockbox. I'd be quick if I was you, he's probably claiming all of your equipment right now.'

The Courier tried to tell himself that Benny wouldn't steal his weapons and chems. He was torn between running to the storage box and the risk of leaving Rosie alone with the slaves. She seemed to sense his hesitation.

'It's okay. I promise I won't hurt them. This is your call,' she said.

He raced back to the gate. 'Benny, put that down right now or so help me...'


	2. Chapter 2

**The Wanderer**

Rosie watched as the Courier sprinted away from her. He was strong and fast; the bulky combat armor he wore didn't seem to weigh him down at all. She tilted her head and bit her lip. She had worked out who he reminded her of - Butch DeLoria, the cute wiseguy she had grown up with in Vault 101, and who she lost her virginity to during a giggly Sunday afternoon as his alcoholic mother snored in the next room. He had been the lover who had wandered the Capital Wasteland with her for a time, warming her bedroll on a night, as they re-created those first breathless moments of intimacy again and again. Butch was the man who had died for her-

But his hair was different, and Butch had had blue eyes, not green.

Those startling eyes were the reason she hadn't pulled the trigger back in Caesar's tent. The PIP-Boy on his wrist had intrigued her too. She wondered if he had been brought up in a vault, same as her.

One of the slaves spoke tentatively. 'Excuse me, ma'am?'

'What is it?' she snapped, turning her attention to the thin woman who had dared speak.

'Are you our master now?' The woman's sparse, lank hair hung in dirty ribbons from her head, and she had cracked sores around her mouth. Rosie wrinkled her nose and looked to make sure the two men were still out of earshot.

'Yes, I am. So, no more speaking unless you're spoken to or I'll shoot you. You will do as I say, when I say it or I'll shoot you. Is that understood?'

The woman and the rest meekly nodded their heads. Brahmin, just as she had told the Courier. The Wanderer was certain she would be able to talk him into seeing that selling them was the best plan. She sighed, thinking they'd be lucky to get even fifty caps per head. Maybe seventy-five each for the children, they didn't seem to be as rotten as the adults...

'C'mon, don't be like that, buddy. You know I was only jerking around.' Benny was following the Courier, who now carried a pump-action shotgun over one shoulder, a fire axe over the other, and some kind of energy pistol on his hip.

The Courier whirled and said something in a low voice that Rosie couldn't make out, but the expression hardened on Benny's face. Her fingers found Dogmeat's ears, and she gave them a quick pull before walking over to the two men.

Benny was still bleeding from a cut on his upper arm, but the Courier seemed content to let him continue and Rosie wasn't one for sharing chems. She and the Courier had managed to avoid any injuries, probably because they were both sensibly wearing armor whereas Benny was just wearing a checkerboard jacket, white shirt and a black tie, and light grey slacks.

Rosie caught the Courier's eye. 'It's getting late,' she said. 'Personally, I think it would be best for us to make the crossing soon, clear out Cottonwood Cove while it's dark, then start moving the slaves.'

'They're not slaves,' he said with a frown. 'And I still want to go down into that bunker, see what this chip can do.' He pulled the small silver disc from a pouch on his belt. He had found it on Caesar's dead body.

'Have you decided how you're gonna play this?' Benny asked quietly, his eyes on the chip.

'Yeah, I think so. You had the right idea about an independent Vegas, Benny. There's no way I'd back the fucking Legion, but NCR and Mr House are no better. When it comes down to it, they're all about oppression. But that means you've got to leave.'

'Leave Vegas? That's not gonna happen.' Benny frowned.

'Not just Vegas. You have to leave the Mohave. I can't trust you. I've given you so many fucking chances already. I don't want to have to kill you, just walk away,' said the Courier. They stared at each other. Dogmeat growled as he sensed the rising tension.

'You jumped-up little prick,' said Benny. 'Do you know how long I've been here? It's my city. Who the fuck do you think you are?' As he finished speaking, Benny pulled a handgun from inside his jacket, and the Courier drew his energy pistol. Benny's posture was rigid in anger, whereas the Courier looked almost weary. Rosie had noted earlier that he handled his weapons with a kind of easy confidence, no matter what he wielded. She liked that.

'Listen baby, you help the Ben-Man take care of this clown and I promise to treat you like a princess. We can rule New Vegas together, me and you. All I need from you, angel, is that chip,' Benny told her, not taking his eyes from the Courier.

This was an interesting turn of events. Her hand brushed the worn wooden grip of the revolver at her hip. 'What about you, honey? You got a better offer for me?' she asked the Courier sweetly.

'No,' he said. There was a pulse of green light, and Benny's head melted. His body slowly slumped to its knees, then fell over sideways. Superheated plasma burned through his jacket and torso, creating a foul smell of hot plastic and charred flesh. The Courier turned to face her, gun held at his side. 'I don't deal in empty promises.'

Rosie could feel Dogmeat trembling against her leg as he snapped and snarled at the Courier. She put her hand calmly on the back of his neck, feeling how his hackles had risen. 'Stand down,' she told him firmly. He gave one more savage bark before dipping his head and panting.

'Thank you,' said the Courier. He sounded tired. 'I can explain all of this shit-'

'I don't care, I'm a traveller. If you want to be the king of Vegas, then it makes no difference to me.'

'There's already enough Kings,' he said under his breath. 'Look, I understand if you want to head back now, but I'd really appreciate it if you would come with me into the bunker. It shouldn't take long.'

Rosie considered his request for a moment. 'On one condition - I get to keep this beautiful gun,' she said, walking forwards and stooping down to pick up Benny's pistol. It was engraved with intricate floral details, and there was a picture of a woman in flowing green robes on the pearl handgrip. The Courier had moved to her side, and looked down at it over her shoulder.

'I was hoping to keep it myself,' he said quietly. 'But such a beautiful gun should belong to a beautiful woman.'

Rosie looked up into those green eyes. 'Good. I didn't want to have to shoot you for it.'

He blinked. A smile spread across his face as he stepped away from her, running a hand through his dark blonde hair. 'Guess I'm going to have to try harder than that, huh?'

She smiled. 'You're doing better than most. Come on, let's see what's in that bunker.'

* * *

**The Courier**

The Courier led the way, trying to work through his thoughts. He cursed Benny for pulling that gun on him again. When he had, the Courier knew there had been no other option than to kill him. He didn't feel good about it though. When it came down to it, Benny had wanted the same thing he did. A free New Vegas.

He stepped around a crackling, burning crucifix, and headed down a small slope between a long line of dark red cloth tents.

Then there was Rosie. She scared the shit out of him, but at the same time all he could think about were her lips and her eyes, the way her hips swayed as she walked. That fucking dog would probably bite his dick off before he got anywhere near her though. And what kind of person names their dog 'Dogmeat'? The stories he had heard about her… She was sick, no doubt. He should just leave her well enough alone.

He glanced back and found her looking at him. She smiled prettily then dropped her gaze, making his stomach flip over again. How could he judge her based on some wild stories that had probably been exaggerated by a lonely wastelander with each telling? The Courier always gave people a chance - hell, he'd given Benny plenty - so he would keep his mind open until he knew her better.

He tried to think of something to say, and waved a hand at the dead. 'I can't believe we managed to kill them all.'

'Why not? We were better than them,' Rosie said dismissively.

'Right.' The Courier cleared his throat. 'So, I guess this is it.'

They had arrived outside of an old stone building with a rusted metal roof at the far end of the camp. The reinforced door was unlocked when he tried the handle, and he raised his plasma pistol as he carefully pushed it open. The room was abandoned; if any of Caesar's Legion had been based inside, they must have run out and died in the fighting.

A battered set of lockers stood to his right, near a console with blinking lights that hummed quietly. There were two desks and three large sets of drawers along the far wall to the left.

Rosie squeezed past him in the doorway, and started to rifle through the drawers. 'What kind of ammo do your guns need?' she asked, as Dogmeat padded to her side.

The Courier had moved to the console and was looking for a likely slot that would fit the platinum chip. 'Hmm? Oh, twelve gauge shells and energy cells.'

'That sounds like the start of a song,' she said, and laughed. Her laughter sent another shiver through him. It was musical, feminine, but had a dark glassy edge. He wondered what her moans would sound like, and felt himself start to stiffen.

He bit his tongue and tried to concentrate on the console. There.

Dogmeat pressed himself against Rosie's leg as a large metal door placed into the stone floor slid back with a rumble and revealed a staircase leading down. Her hand dropped to his head.

'Steady,' she told the animal. 'We've seen some interesting sights and met some interesting people underground, haven't we, boy?' Dogmeat huffed and nuzzled her fingers. If the Courier didn't know better, he would claim that the dog understood every word she said.

She joined him at the top of the stairs, and pressed a couple of silver Legion coins into his hand. 'I didn't expect to find much,' she said with a shrug.

He pocketed the chip and the money and together they walked down the steps into a small circular room, and approached a set of doors decorated with the Lucky 38 casino logo. The doors opened automatically as they got closer, and the Courier, Rosie and Dogmeat stepped into the elevator car that waited beyond.

The elevator dropped quickly and smoothly and within moments the doors opened again onto a dimly-lit corridor. Dogmeat sniffed the air and growled. As they walked forwards, he became aware of the slow clicking noise from his PIP-Boy and he checked the dosimeter. The bunker was lightly irradiated, so they would need to move quickly if they didn't want to get sick.

Through a doorway, he was confronted by a large screen that held Mr House's debonair visage above a panel of flickering lights and switches. Several smaller screens lined the main one, and showed security footage from inside the Lucky 38. The Courier smiled to see Cass and Boone sharing a bottle of whiskey in the sky bar. Getting laid might loosen them both up.

There was a click, and Mr House's voice was broadcast into the small room. 'I see that you reached your destination safely. And you have found a new friend. Enchanté, my dear. What is your name?'

'It's Rosie. To whom do I have the pleasure in speaking with?'

'My, my, it is good to meet a young woman with impeccable manners. I am Mr House. Let me assure you, the pleasure is all mine.'

The Courier bristled at the smooth bastard's tone. 'Pardon me for interrupting, but I'd rather not come out of this bunker as a ghoul. What do you need me to do down here?' he asked.

Mr House explained that the platinum chip was a data storage device, and needed to be inserted into another terminal at the far end of the facility. He went on to apologise to Rosie that he was unable to control the automated turrets or the robots that patrolled the facility, but that the pair may be able to disable them manually from within the bunker. House became evasive when the Courier asked why he needed to upload the data from the chip, telling them only that it would upgrade the securitron robots stored there. He would not tell them why this needed doing.

The Courier assured House that he would do as he requested, and he moved quickly through the door that opened to his right.


End file.
